My dad is an asshole.

There is just no getting around it.

It's like this:

He's not even a concern to me much anymore.

But life remains NOT EASY AT ALL.

Life still seems to be treating me like crap.

Even with a major issue out of the way, because, finally, it's out of my way, I've still got lots of obstacles.

:'(

you know what's hard?

telling your mom that you're an outcast and watching her try not to cry.

that's hard.

And suddenly, it's easier every day.

I feel as if I've faced a turning point. Where it's getting easier. Almost as though I'm surely coming to an acceptance of what happened with that guy. It's just like, it's finally getting easier to leave it all behind. Finally.

I don't think some of the marks on my arms will ever completely fade.

But I have a sort of vision of my future, when someone asks me what they're from. And I want to be able to look at them and say:

"There was a time when I used to be way too hard on myself. Then I realized I was hurting myself for things that were not even my fault; for problems and faults that were not by own, but another's."

finally walking away from that part of my past.

Forbidden Love

the love that's forbidden seems to be the most desired.

the apple you shouldn't eat seems to taste the sweetest.

OF COURSE EVE ATE THE DAMN APPLE.

ohhmyyygoshhh.

Seeing pictures of girls with their flowers and the smiles on their faces at prom makes me feel like I have a sign on my forehead that says "Forever Alone".

I want that giddy excitement. There just isn't anyone for me.

I'm quite attracted to my teacher, though. But he's married with children, so we can cross that one out.

I don't know why I'm attracted to older men, but I am. I don't mean like people in their 70s. I mean 20s and 30s. I'm hardly attracted to everyone that age, only a few people, but I realize now that I spend my time thinking about celebrities who are quite older, like Jake Gyllenhal. Ahhmygosh.

And my teacher is just. Magic.

Everybody my age is just a baby. I would rather date a 19 year old than a 17 year old. And I'd rather date a 21 year old than a 16 year old! This could get me into trouble, I know, but I can't help that I'm attracted to older guys. Younger guys fail at life.

One of my friends is going out toinight to get drunk because she feels like it.
It makes me sad and all that jazz.
But sometimes, I want to say "fuck it" and party all night long and scream and shout and dance on tables and I want STROBE LIGHTS and to jump into a pool of boys and girls who will pass me along to the music. I want blaring music and bright lights and I want to sweat off all my worries. I want to get CRAZY, get WILD, do something absolutely exciting.
I want to do something so out-of-character with my always-worried self.
I don't want drugs, no. I don't want to get drunk.
I just want to completely let loose and go nuts. and tonight's prom. I truly am a party girl, really, just not the drunk slut party girl. I'm the sober, hyperactive wild party girl who can turn things into a great time but I don't have any chances for it.
And as much as I hate people my age, sometimes I want to get in a medium-sized room and be right in the center, dancing and jumping and freeing myself to the pulsating music. I want to have that guy I can wink at, I want to have that boy who will try to kiss me and I want to dance and flirt and be happy and wild. I want to dance until I DROP. LITERALLY.

I want what I can't get.
For some reason, it just isn't here...

Uhh....

So apparently the rapture is near!

May 21st, according to a bunch of spiritual people somewhere out west.

And then the world is going to be destroyed COMPLETELY on October 21st.

Really now?

If I roll my eyes any more they will fall out of my face.

Screaming and crying, doors slamming, yelling, fighting, hiding away, being afraid, repeating the past time and time again.

Happy Mother's day.

Breaking Dishes - Literally.

About 2o minutes, ago, my dad started taking all weird about how he didn't know he was invited to eat dinner with us all for mother's day tomorrow. I told him he was weird. And that's when it started.

He shook his head and said, "You complain about everything. Every single thing."

I nodded. Said, "Mm-hmm." I was thinking to myself, Erin, what are you doing?! he's going to freak out oh my gosh stop.

My dad kept saying "Keep your mouth shut."

I didn't say anything. I SMILED at him. I was screaming at myself inside of my head, but some force was acting in me, daring me to just keep it up.

He kept telling me to keep my mouth shut again and again, and then? Then?

He stood up, grabbed his dishes, and threw them into the sink like a frisbee.

They broke into pieces.

"You little sixteen year old girl disrespecting your father!"

Cue the walking upstairs and slamming the door.

I was still smiling when he left. Then he came back down and got his coat and said he was going to the store and left; in my head I was just begging him to put a hand on me so I could finally blow up at him for something that you can't hide behind smiles and "You imagined that, Erin." But anyway, when he came down, I was all smiles. Because I realized something, and I told my mom.

I said, "The more you realize how pathetic the people who are trying to hurt you are, the less they can hurt you."

Anybody who has to treat others terribly just to feel better about themselves is pathetic.

I said, "Mom, my dad is a pathetic little boy in the body of an older man."

She defends him, you know. Typical relational abuse stuff, I know, I've tasted that bitter drink myself.

Then we had a conversation and I was telling her that maybe he left to go kill himself.

And she's like, he's not like that.

I said, "Yeah, he's just one to break dishes."

My mom goes, "I've broken dishes sometimes, but I didn't want to kill myself."

I said, "But you did. You told me."

Because she did one time. We almost got into a car accident. We almost both died. I haven't told that little tidbit of my life to many people - maybe only one friend of mine who saw me right after it happened. But it did happen. Except my mom didn't remember it. But my mom was like, "Not everyone wants to go and kill themselves you know."

Except, no. I don't know. See, I've been around the threat of suicide my whole entire life. My sister tried to kill herself, my mom used to cry about wanting to die, my dad always says he can't wait to die, my brother jokes about suicide, my friends have been to that point, etc etc etc. I was raised around the constant looming threat of suicide.

I frequently hear people discuss their wishes to die.

My mom looked at the dish he broke and said it was one of her favorites.

Immediately I wanted to clobber him until he couldn't break anything, not the dishes, not our hearts, anymore.

My dad is so mean to my mom.

He's abusive.

I mean, let's look of the logistics of it.

• He always claims that she never spends any time with him. Whenever she goes out, he memorizes exactly what she did and if she goes out the next week he's like "You went here last week, with her, and drove here, and the week before that you went there and ran into her and invited her over." Something like that. He used to be terrible about it when I was younger. Like, so bad to the point that my mom was afraid to go out places because of him.
• He's always telling her what she's doing wrong. Nothing is ever right; he'll point out her faults, but I NEVER EVER hear him point out any of her good qualities.
• He accuses her of lying when she hasn't, calls her a "nutjob, goddamn animal, piece of shit, stupid, an idiot, liar, crazy, wackjob."
• No matter what, he always makes it seem like he's the one who knows what's right, and that no matter what my Mom says, she'll be wrong.
• The whole family walks on eggshells around him. I have had to lie many times about little things just so he doesn't blow up. I can't even talk to him. Everything I say to him is as if it's rehearsed. I'm afraid of him.
• Right at this very second he's complaining about her to someone on the phone, saying that she lied about where she went out to eat for her own birthday. He checked the mileage on the car just to see where she went. Now he's talking with someone on the phone about it because he HAS to be right. IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER. Manipulative, controlling, jealous bastard.
• He'll deny that things ever happened, telling her that she's making it up, and creating things in her mind. He says that to me all the time too. That can really damage someone.
• Other times, when he's mad, he'll withdraw and won't even talk to her. He'll go up and shut his door and sometimes she'll sleep downstairs.
• He denies her perceptions, memories, and even her sanity.
• He makes it so the only person who matters is him.
• He makes her feel guilty.
• He does this, he does that... the bottom line is that I could outline a bunch of experiences but that's not the point.

The point is that he's hurting my mom, and that I grew up with that knowledge and that I fell for someone who did some of the same things to me in less extensive ways.

And maybe there's a connection between that.

Maybe there isn't.

But that's not really the point either. The point is this:

He's abusive to my mother, and I've watched it for years. Only now, I know how my mom feels. I know what it's like to think you're the one who needs help, and to question the only real survival tool you have: your own mind.

I understand, and I watch, and I hear, and I listen. And I feel. And I don't know how this is going to all pan out. But I know that my father is mentally ill. And I know that sometimes living here can be the Cold War, and that my dad makes me question my own reality as well.

He makes me wonder if I'm crazy.

He makes me feel small.

Another thing I know is that I don't know how to deal with it. And I don't know what to do about it, either.

See this is what I meant.

This is what I meant by having "fallouts".

Like some girl just told me that everyone talks behind my back about how I'm a weird freak.

And how they all laugh at me.

Which makes me want to carve my stupidness out.

Cut it all out.

But, I won't.

I won't.

The Past

I was having a really great time last night playing Apples to Apples with a group of people, and then the subject Painful came up on the green card. I had just gotten the best card for it: my past. And for a moment, the memories came flooding back, and so did the pain. But then I put down my card, and I realized, I have to put down my past. I have to move on.

This is going to be a journey filled with pain, I've known that already. But I have to let it be a journey. I can't stay stuck here for the rest of my life. I realize, now, that I want to run from the past. What better way to do that than run headfirst into my future?

Slowly, I need to erase away what's left. What happened to me was awful; but that's just it: it was awful and it was terrible but I need to get out of it. I can't let that fact consume me. I need to acknowledge that, yes, it was excruciatingly painful. And then I have to take that knowledge, and understand it, and then walk on.

There will be stumbles and falls, I know that. Sometimes I will fall back; some nights I will cry until my eyes are swollen and I've exhausted myself and I fall asleep with tears on my cheeks. The pain will be monstrous; my heart will ache and I will feel like I'm really, actually dying. And I'm allowed to feel that pain! I have the right to feel that pain! And, at the end of the day, even though I forget it ALL THE TIME, I also have the right to heal.

I hate myself quite a lot, so it's hard to even say that. That I have the right to get better.

But I do. I do have that right, and I do deserve, 100% deserve, to heal.

The pain will not subside completely, ever. However, that isn't the point, and that's not a reason to let it RULE me forever. I CAN find happiness that will trump that pain wholeheartedly.

The ghost of first love never really leaves you. It makes sense; it's the first time you gave your whole self to someone, the first time you left yourself open, raw, your heart completely unguarded. It can change you, and damage you. With first love, comes first heartbreak. I do know, however, that I will come to accept it one day. One day the rage will fade. One day the tears will dry. One day the heart will heal; I sometimes have a MASSIVELY hard time believing that last one. I do know, though, that when the heart does heal, there will always be a scar.

I will always carry scars.

But although I give up hope so much that this is true, I pray, I PRAY, that there are other people like me, who will look at someone's scars, and then look at the owner of them, and call them beautiful.

So this has got to be goodbye.

I will always have love in my heart for certain people.

And with that heart, I am walking away.

Sometimes, the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

What is this, the Anti-Bullying Parade?

My whole family is getting all freaked out because the kids at school don't like me.

Like they can do anything about it!

About ten minutes ago, my sister waltzed into my room and asked for names. She has a boyfriend who has a brother who has crazy friends who will beat people up. No kidding. She tells me that she'll bust down doors if she has to, and she'll make sure they regret ever being rude to me.

My gosh, well, I'd PAY someone to do that to certain people, but she told me that she would only be able to get revenge on the people in my school, which sucks because the only person I'd freaking love to have kicked in the balls does not go to my school. Although that's also a VERY good thing. A VERY VERY GOOD THING.

THEN.

My dad comes into my room and is like, "So boys are rude to you?"

I freaked out and was like "GET OUT! EVERYBODY NEEDS TO GET OFF MY BACK ABOUT THIS!"

I mean, considering this isn't even the biggest issue in my life right now, why don't we focus on the real issues? Yeesh.

I almost told my dad about the big old shithead who broke my heart but my dad would probably actually cause bodily harm to anyone who broke my heart if he had the chance. Bad bodily harm, I believe.

It's like a freaking parade of people coming into my room, and they're all sad about the people at my school who bully me, but seriously, what can they do? People don't like me because according to them I'm a "weird ugly freak who might as well kill herself".

There's nothing like a glorious day at school to motivate me, no?

Oh, happy day.

Well, this morning my dad told me he doesn't want me to end up like my siblings.

Like I needed to hear that. Like I don't fear it immensely. Like I don't curse myself already because I feel like I'm already going down that path. I love my siblings, I do. I just can't live like they do.

Then I freaked out over my hair and was running late and my mom got mad at me and proceeded to tell me, "you only care about yourself. Remember that I'm human too, and I have feelings too."

Oh my gosh. I couldn't even believe that she said that to me. All I think about is other people! And the reason that I'm suffering in silence is BECAUSE I think about her feelings!

And some people still wonder why I'm so afraid to tell my parents how I feel. *shakes my head*

But that's not all she said. She said that she must have something wrong with her because "all of my children are unhappy." DAMNIT, MOM!

See? See?!?! I can't be unhappy! I can't be! My life is one huge guilt trip. I told my mom that, and she said that her life was. Then I said, "You know what? I just won't tell you how I feel then, ever."

She said, "Neither will I, then."

I responded with, "Okay, that's great, then I'll just die inside."

Her response? "Now my day is going to be ruined hearing that."

SORRY TO BE SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE.

But then she texted me apologizing today. Which was nice. Usually I apologize first. Because I can't bear to have her in pain.

Now I'm hyped up on caffeine, because it gives me a false sense of being happier than I really am. Or just less sad than I am. I know it's false, but it's better than being completely blank and empty and throbbing, and feeling the pain like a whole-body bruise.

Oh God, my parents.

My heart just broke more.

Today I told my mom about how rude people are to me in school. And she told my dad and they had this huge thing where they were trying to comfort me and it was terrible because it was so sad.

My dad just brought me over to his window and talked about how the rain was coming and we were looking out into my backyard and all I could think about was how innocent I used to be. I just imagined my old swing set there, with me giggling and laughing and being carefree. I just wanted to cry. I just kept thinking: he doesn't know how much his little girl is hurting.

Because they don't. Because they can't. Because at the end of the day they don't want me to be in pain and so I can't be. But my heart hurts and it's starting to rain now and all I can think about is how angry my dad would be if he knew why I was so sad. He would ruin certain people's lives and tear them limb from limb.

He told me tonight, "When you hurt, I hurt."

Oh, God, I know that feeling.

I feel the same.

I'm sick of hurting.

I wish I could go back and save that little girl.

I give up.

I'm done.